The Taming of the Set
by Jocelyn
Summary: Sequel to Kiss Me, Kitty. The students' and teachers' adventures in summer theatre class continue as they work on the set with mixed results. Rendered AU by X2.
1. Scene I: Show Me the Cookie!

**Title:  The Taming of the Set (Sequel to Kiss Me, Kitty)**

Authors:  Jocelyn, Navaeh, and Sandy

**_A/N:_**_  For timeline purposes (this was written in 2000, long before X-2) just pretend the gang had a bit more time to hang around the mansion after Logan's return before all the insanity of X-2 began.  (You know, it took Professor Xavier a bit longer to track down Nightcrawler!)  ;-)_

**_Disclaimer_**_:  The X-men belong to Brian Singer and Marvel Comics, and "The Taming of the Shrew" belongs to the God of all playwrights.  Forsooth, I should not presume to make a profit upon **either** masterpiece._

**Scene I:  Show me the cookie!**

"Okay, guys, take five!" Scott Summers announced over the bedlum of hammers, drills, and assorted crashes.

Loud whoops erupted and the noise got even louder as several dozen teenagers thundered off the half-finished set.  "Mr. Summers, John blew out the last lightbulb!"

"Mr. Summers, Bobby froze half of the paper mache!"

"Yeah, well you set the other half on fire, Jube!"

"I was trying to get your attention—"

"_Hey!_" Scott barked over the racket. "Save it for after the break.  Now go get some food and quit your bickering."

"Anyone else would've said 'bitching,'" John whispered to Rogue as they ran down to the kitchen.

Scott sat down with a thud in the nearest chair, grinning to himself.  Ororo Munroe poked her head around the doorway, "I just saw a herd of elephants coming down the hall."

"Saw or heard?"

"Both.  Is this your first break all day?"

"God help me, I'd be less tired after a mission," he laughed and shook his head. "They're running me ragged."

"I guess you're just letting them decide what they want to do?" she asked, indicating the half-finished paper mache lumps, plywood scattered all over the room, and the huge bolt of cloth being converted into a curtain for the dressing room next door.  The Professor had been all too delighted to convert two adjoining rooms in the mansion into the set and dressing room for the play.  

"Well, that would make sense.  They don't learn anything unless they do it themselves.  I'm just keeping them from killing each other or turning the play into a burlesque." Storm laughed and he added, "Besides, Jubilee got a book on set-building and started rattling off all sorts of things about flats, scrims, and light bridges.  They're doing just fine."

Storm laughed harder, but asked curiously, "So what is a scrim?"

He shrugged, "You got me.  Fortunately, they decided not to use one."

"But they are using flats and light bridges?"

"No, just the flats.  Light bridges are expensive."

"And you have no idea what either of them is, do you."

"Nope.  But I'm beginning to think Jubilee wants to hang me from the ceiling and use me as a spotlight."

"There's a thought."  

The temporary peace and quiet was shattered once again as the door to the room flew open with a loud crash, and the entire cast and crew poured back in.  Armed with every variety of junk food known to man, the kids shoved aside the chairs and settled in a rough circle on the floor.  "I thought you were going to eat in the kitchen," Scott said.

"Well, we were, but we decided to have a meeting about the set and costumes.  And you're here, so we had to do it here," Kitty replied, all logic.

"Lucky me." Scott surveyed their snacks. "There's not a single thing here that even fits into a food group!"

"Just because you eat boring and conservative doesn't mean we have to," Jubilee replied around a mouthful of gummy worms.

"Jube, that kind of candy could survive a nuclear strike."

"Well, there's an upside then."

Scott rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses.  Storm could always tell by the way his eyebrows moved, "You're doing it again."

"Stop staring at my forehead.  Next time I do the shopping."

"Hey!  Mr. Summers!  We've got milk.  Dairy, see?" Bobby held up a jug.

"Bobby, what the hell did you bring milk for?"  Kitty demanded.

"It's for the Oreos!" 

"Oh, that's okay, I guess,"  Kitty replied, "Pour me a glass and pass me a cookie—John, you can't have a third until the rest of us get one!"

"Mmph!" was the snappy comeback.

Storm was laughing behind her hand, "At least Kitty's not to the point where she's refusing to act unless we get her favorite cream soda."

"No, she's not that deep into the prima donna thing.  Not yet anyway," Scott said.

"So what else are you planning to do with the set?" she asked.

"We need a flat!" Jubilee was saying, "In front of the door where we go off stage!"

"There's your answer," said Scott.

"It can be the entrance of Baptista's house.  That way everyone can exit as if they're going inside," Bobby agreed.

"In fact, we should make two.  One for Baptista's house, and one for Petruchio's house during Act Two," Kitty suggested, dunking her Oreo.

"We could just alter the one we have so it can be both—but all the scenes for Petruchio's house are indoors." Jubilee frowned, "I guess it would have to be the inside door."

"Yeah, that makes sense—Hey!  Pass me one of those cookies." Bobby reached across Jubilee to grab the Oreos from Kitty.

"I guess they really do have this thing in hand," Storm observed, sounding impressed.

"Yeah," Scott said absently.

"Maybe now's a good time to ask them what a flat is—and I see you eyeing those cookies!" she said in an accusing tone.

"Huh? What?" Scott jerked his gaze back to her, "I wasn't, I just got distracted."

"Yes, by those cookies!" she taunted him.

"Look, Oreo—I mean, Ororo, aw, hell!" Scott slapped himself on the forehead, aware that he'd given himself away.

Storm burst out laughing, "You're far too repressed, Scott." Turning to the kids, she pointed at him and ordered, "Get that man a cookie!"

"Huh?" was the collective answer.

Jubilee recovered her directorial role, "You heard the woman, give him a cookie!"

"I don't need a cookie!" Scott protested, but he was starting to grin.

Rogue scrambled to her feet and presented him with an Oreo and a glass of milk with a great flourish, "Your cookie, Mr. Director."

"Thanks."  Scott gave in to his craving and pulled his chair over to the circle, "So what's a flat?"

They were deep in the discussion (and even deeper into the box of Oreos) when Logan wandered in.  He took in the scene before him and smirked, "Aw, Cyke, I always knew you were a milk-and-cookies kind of guy."

**To be concluded…**

**Good morrow, fellow fanfic readers, mark me, I pray.  To give or not to give reviews, that is the question to which the answer is YES!!!**


	2. Scene II: Shoes, Screws, and Glue, Oh M...

**Title:  The Taming of the Set (Sequel to Kiss Me, Kitty)**

Authors:  Jocelyn, Navaeh, Sandy (jdog985@hotmail.com)

**_A/N:_**_  And thus endeth the second installment of the X-Players!  See the note at the end if you want to see more rehearsals and preparations, or…perhaps…opening night?  ;-)_

**_Disclaimer:_**_  The X-men belong to Brian Singer and Marvel.  The Taming of the Shrew belongs to William Shakespeare (and I'm not making any more money than he is)._

**Scene II: Shoes, Screws, and Glue, oh my!**

"No, absolutely not."

"But Mr. Summers…"

"Bobby, it's out of the question."

"Aw, come on!"

"We are NOT renting a mule for the wedding scene!"

"But it would be SO awesome!"

Scott sighed, "Bobby, first of all, I don't know where to get a mule.  Second of all, it would have to be housebroken.  And finally, what am I supposed to tell the Professor when he sees a mule walking down the hallway?"

"Uh, it's a new student?"  Cyclops raised his eyebrows, and Bobby said desperately, "You know, with morphing abilities…okay, that's a stretch."

"A stretch?  Bobby, I think there's a drill over there with your name on it."

"But Mr. Summers…" Scott just glared at him.  Bobby shrank away and glanced over his shoulder, "You're right!  That is my drill!  Going! Going now!"

Scott turned around and saw Jean leaning against the wall, her face red and her hand over her mouth to hide the fact that she was laughing hysterically.  "They've been going on and on about renting a mule ever since they started blocking the wedding scene."

"Why not just use one of our horses?" Jean asked playfully.

"Don't give 'em any ideas." 

"Besides," Bobby piped up, "the doorway's too small!  We tried it!"

"Bobby!" Kitty exclaimed in outrage. "You weren't supposed to tell him!"

"Oops!"

Jean was laughing harder still.  Scott didn't even bother to turn around, although he looked like he wanted to thud his head against the wall.  "The life of a director is so trying, isn't it?" she teased.

"Oh, hush." 

"Mr. Summers, what do you think of this costume?" Kitty's voice came from behind him.

Scott turned around.  Behind him, Jean muttered, "What on Earth…"

John was standing on top of a stool, wearing a makeshift doublet, tights, pointy shoes, and a stick-on gray beard.  "I say potbelly," Kitty said thoughtfully, eyeing the costume like a professional designer. "He says no potbelly.  What do you think?"

Jubilee walked into the room just then with Logan in tow. "I think he looks like a cross between Santa and one of his elves, and the potbelly's only gonna make it worse.  But, that's just my opinion; I'm certain your distinguished director knows best," Logan declared.

Scott slowly turned toward the door.  "I dunno, try the potbelly on Logan and then I'll tell you what I think."

Jubilee sighed. "Mr. Summers," she said, sounding disturbingly like a scolding teacher. "Would you PLEASE concentrate on the subject at hand?"

Logan recoiled from her. "My God, Cyke, she's starting to sound like you!  But no," he shook his head and grinned. "Even you wouldn't have said, 'We need help; get your ass in here,' now, would you?"

Perfectly deadpan, Scott replied, "No, I'd have said, 'We need help; get your sorry ass in here.'"

All activity in the immediate vicinity ceased.  Bobby dropped his drill.  Kitty leaned over to John, gaping, "Did he just…"

"He did!"

"Somebody, kill me now, I've seen it all!"

"Advantage Cyclops!" Rogue shouted, pumping her fist in the air.  Scott turned as if about to scold her and grinned instead.  

Jubilee managed to pull herself together and shouted, "Okay, show's over, everybody get back to work!" She pulled Logan onto the set by the sleeve of his jacket and promptly put him to work cutting plywood for the outside of Baptista's house with his claws.

John sat down on the stool and put his head in his hand. "Oh, jeez.  Well, at least I'm not working on set," he added as Bobby bent yet another screw.

"No, but you are working on costumes!  Now get back up there!" Kitty ordered.

"Help!"

"Oh, and Kitty?" Scott added sternly.

"Yes?"

"Go with the potbelly."

Kitty grinned and saluted. "Yes sir, Mr. Director, sir!"

John gazed at the doublet with a critical eye, "Do you really think this is my color?"

Kitty stepped back and frowned. "We could always switch yours and Sam's, but you won't fit in his shoes."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Then the shoes won't match!"

"Too small or too big?" Rogue asked, climbing up a ladder to screw a lightbulb into the ceiling.  

"Too big," Kitty murmured, staring at the shoes as if trying to make them shrink.

Rogue sat on the top rung thoughtfully. "Stuff Sam's with tissue paper and then John can wear 'em."

"What about Sam?"

"Use a shoe horn!"

"A what?"

"Just trust me," she said, then resumed her work.

John threw up his hands, causing Kitty to make a growling noise at him and pull his arm back down to add a ruffle to the sleeve, "Why don't we just rename this thing 'The Taming of the Shoes!'"

"More like 'The Taming of the Screw,'" Bobby groaned and his drill slipped, adding an unexpected hole to part of the flat.

"I vote for 'The Taming of the Glue!'" Jubilee suggested, her hands all sticky with paper mache.

"My money's on 'The Taming of the Crew,'" Scott murmured in Jean's ear as they watched.

"Get up there and direct," she said playfully.

"They're doing just fine without me."

"Hey, Rogue!" Sam shouted up to Rogue on her ladder, "How many X-men does it take to screw in a—" 

"Shut up!" 

Scott glanced back at Jean. "On second thought, maybe they could use a hand." 

**~Fin~**

**Thou wouldst not deprive me of the pleasure of thy reviews if thou were gentlemen (and ladies.)  And if ye bid me present thee with further tales of the adventures of the X-Players, I bid thee make thy sentiments known, for there art yet remaining many exploits as our learned director and his troupe continue their journey towardst opening night!**


End file.
